This blog is dedicated to preserving the voices of men and women who lived through the Napoleonic Wars. It's primary goal is to publicize little known memoirs, diaries, letters and other primary sources in order to enrich our understanding of the past.
“Human life is short and fleeting, and many millions of individuals, who share in it, are swallowed by that monster of oblivion which is waiting for them with ever-open jaws. It is thus a very thank-worthy task to try to rescue something— – the memory of interesting and important events, or the leading features and personages of some epoch— – from the general shipwreck of the world.” Arthur Schopenhauer
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Alexander Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii, The Journal of the 1813 Campaign - Part 1
Alexander Ivanovich Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii holds a distinct place in the Russian historiography of the Napoleonic Wars. A witness to the Napoleon’s campaigns in Europe in
1805-1808 and direct participant of the later wars, he wrote histories that broke new ground and represent classic works of history. In addition to over half a dozen histories of the Napoleonic campaigns, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii also left a series of diaries and memoirs that provide a fascinating insight into the Russian side of the Napoleonic Wars.
Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii was born in 1790 in St. Petersburg. His father Ivan Lukyanovich Danilevskii (1751-1807) was a prominent figure in contemporary Russian society; born into a Cossack family from Malorossya, Danilevskii studied in Kiev Academy of Theology and, as a tutor to Brigadier P.S. Miloradovich’s son, he attended several universities in Germany and France, receiving a doctorate in medicine from the University of Gottingen. Returning to Russia, Danilevskii chose to pursue a career in banking and over the years he succeeded in becoming director of the State Loan Bank. The change of the family name from Danilevskii to Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii was a result of an incident during the reign of Emperor Paul I (1796-1801). A certain Danilevskii wrote a rather impertinent letter to Emperor Paul leading to arrest of Ivan Danilevskii. During the interrogation, he was found innocent and released. Emperor Paul comforted him by giving a promotion and adding “Mikhailovskii” - the emperor just moved to Mikhailovskii palace - to his surname to prevent any future confusion.
The young Alexander Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii studied at St. Peter’s Lutheran College in St. Petersburg in 1797-1806. At the age of 12, he was placed in state service, working as a clerk (kantselyarist) at the State Loan Bank in 1801. In 1803, he was promoted to college registrar [kolezhskii registrator) and in 1805 – to college secretary (kolezhskii sekretar’). He abandoned state service after the death of his father in August 1807. Receiving a large inheritance, he decided to travel and study abroad. He first traveled to his father’s alma mater, the University of Gottingen, where he took classes in 1808-1811. In the summer of 1809, as Napoleon was defeating the Austrians on the field of Wagram, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii traveled to France, Switzerland and Italy to see historical places before returning back to the university in November. He stayed at Gottingen for two more years, taking courses in history, politics, finances, law and arts.
In late 1811, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii returned to Russia and briefly worked in the chancellery of the Ministry of Finance.
As Napoleon’s Grande Armée crossed the Nieman River in late June 1812, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii resigned his position and volunteered for service in opolchenye (militia). His skills were quickly noticed and he was appointed adjutant to Prince Mikhail Kutuzov, then commander of the St. Petersburg opolchenye. After Kuzutov was given command of the Russian armies in late August, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii followed him and remained by his side throughout the campaign, serving in the personal chancellery of the commander-in-chief. He received a baptism by fire at the bloody battle at Borodino on 7 September and was awarded the Order of St. Anna (4th class) for his actions. In September, as Kutuzov reorganized the chancellery, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii was tasked with maintaining an official "Journal of Military Operations" which recorded daily operations of the main Russian army and was personally supervised and edited by Kutuzov. In October, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii was wounded in the right hand at the Battle of Tarutino, for which he received the Order of St. Vladimir (4th class) and left the army to recover at Tula.
Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii returned to active service in February 1813 (where his 1813 Journal starts its narrative) and resumed his duties of an adjutant to Kutuzov. Taking advantage of his proficiency in languages, Kutuzov had Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii writing reports and various memos on military operations in Russian, German and French languages as well as continuing to maintain the Journal of Military Operations. After Kutuzov’s death in April 1813, Emperor Alexander noticed the talented young official and took him into His Imperial Majesty’s Suite on Quartermaster Service, which served as a precursor to the Russian General Staff. Here, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii was in charge of foreign correspondence and official Journal of Military Operations, which was now edited by Emperor Alexander himself. He attended the Russian emperor throughout the 1813-1814 Campaigns and, in addition to earning a promotion to captain in September 1813, was awarded a golden sword and the Prussian Pour le Merite for his actions in the Battle of Lutzen (May 1813), the Order of St. Anna (2nd class) and the Austrian Order of St. Leopold (3rd class) for his role in the Battle of Leipzig (October 1813) and the diamond signs of the Order of St. Anna (2nd class) for his involvement in the Battle for Paris in March 1814.
In August 1814, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii joined the newly established General Staff, commanded by Prince P. Volkonsky who appreciated the young officer’s knowledge of foreign languages and ability to maintain official correspondence. In 1815, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii attended the Congress of Vienna where he handled Emperor Alexander’s correspondence. After being promoted to a colonel in 1815, he was appointed as flügel adjutant to Emperor Alexander and over the next three years accompanied him in various travels throughout Europe. At the same time, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii also began experimenting with writing historical works and memoirs. He completed his biographical Ma biographie, Mes voyages, Histoire de la guerre 1812, Lettres sur celle de 1813 in 1814 and wrote several articles and anonymous histories that were published in Russian periodicals Syn Otechestva, Russkii Vestnik and Otechestvennie Zapiski.
In December 1823, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii was promoted to a major general and given command of 3rd Brigade of the 7th Infantry Division in Poltava. While serving there, he befriended local officers who later participated in the Decembrist Rebellion of 1825. This event dimmed his prospects for advancement and he resigned from his post in April 1826. Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii spent next three years arranging private affairs until, in 1829, he was called back to active duty during the Russo-Ottoman War. He was appointed as Duty Officer to General Ivan Diebitsch, who commanded the Russian army in the Danubian Principalities. Next year, he accompanied the Russian army sent to suppress the Polish Rebellion and was seriously wounded at the Battle of Grochow on 23-25 February 1830.
Returning to St. Petersburg, Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii began writing historical books and, in 1831, he published several works on the campaigns of 1813-1815. Emperor Nicholas I praised these studies and ordered Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii to write a comprehensive history of the wars of Alexander I. For this purpose Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii was granted a wide access to Imperial archives, but was closely supervised by the Imperial authorities.
This assignment resulted in a series of fundamental researches on the Napoleonic campaigns. Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii was a prolific writer, who worked with a remarkable efficiency. He published “Campaign of 1814 in France” in 1836, “History of the Patriotic War of 1812” in 1839, “History of the 1813 Campaign” in 1840, “Description of the War in Finland” in 1841, “Description of the Wars with Turkey” in 1843, “Description of the First War of Alexander I with Napoleon“ in 1844, and “Description of the Second War of Alexander I with Napoleon” in 1846. These works brought him fame and awards. In 1834 Emperor Nicholas presented him with snuffbox decorated with brilliants for the work on 1812 Campaign. On 6 December 1835 he was promoted to a lieutenant general with the right to sit in the Senate, and three days later he was appointed a chairman of the Military Censorship Committee. In later years, he was awarded the Orders of St. Vladimir (2nd class, 1836), of St. George (4th class, 1836), of the White Eagle (1838), of the Red Eagle of Prussia (1st class, 1839) and of Alexander of Neva (1843), and the diamond signs of the Order of Alexander of Neva (1846). He became a member of the Imperial Council of War (1839) and of the Imperial Academy of Science (1843). Alexander Mikhailovskii-Danilevskii died on 9 September 1848 during the cholera epidemic in St. Petersburg. He was buried at the Tikhvinskoye Cemeteryof the Alexander Nevsky Lavra in St. Petersburg.
The original manuscript of the Journal of the 1813 Campaign is preserved at the Russian State Military Historical Archive (RGVIA) and it was published in Russian in 1990: 1812 god... Voennye dnevniki, ed. A. Tartakovskii (Moscow: Sov. Rossiya, 1990). This is its first English publication.
The Journal of the 1813 Campaign
My wounds barely began to heal and my condition slightly improved when General Konovnitsyn arrived from the army to St. Petersburg. He brought me Prince Kutuzov’s letter asking me to hurry up with returning to the main headquarters. Konovnitsyn told me that since he was planning to return to the army very soon he would be pleased if I accompanied him. I received with due appreciation such satisfying words from these two famous men and on 16 [28] January I traveled with Konovnitsyn, his entire family and adjutants, now Generals Pavlenkov, Akhsharumov and Frolov, to his family estate at Kiarovo, located in the Gdovskii uezd, where we spent one week. The generous hosts tended to us, young officers, like their children. I spent mornings with Konovnitsyn, browsing through his maps, plans and papers, among which the most interesting were those related to the last Finnish campaign, when he served as a duty general. He had preserved his contemporary correspondence with Prince Bagration, Count Kamensky, Rayevsky, Tuchko and other famous generals, as well as the Emperor’s correspondence with Count [Fedor] Buxhowden, whose memory Konovnitsyn respected so much that he once told me, “If Buxhowden were alive today, it would have been him, not Kutuzov, commanding our armies during the Patriotic War.” Buxhowden’s achievements, like almost all prominent Russians, are not described by anyone. I think that he would have been long forgotten if not for his courageous letter to the dreadful and all-powerful Minister of War Count Arakacheyev, which everyone had seen and which reproached this timeserver [vremenshik] for his haughty demeanor, excessive penalties and claims of authority to hold accountable even commander-in-chief; among other things Count Buxhowden [even] asked Arakcheyev, “Do you know what a ‘commander-in-chief’ really stands for?”
Talking about Konovnitsyn, I cannot but mention one beautiful trait of his character: he not only loved to give proper credit to and praise officers, who served under his command, but he did this with particular pleasure, which was visible on his kind face; it seemed that praising his subordinates for the very sustenance of his soul, so benevolent and sublime. He thus praised Colonel Gaverdovski, who was killed at the battle of Borodino, assuring that he had inordinary talents and had he survived the battle, he would have been an excellent genera;. “When he served under me,” Konovnitsyn said, “I demanded almost impossible tasks from him and he accomplished them all.” But he loathed foreigners and said that he never would have promoted foreigners to a general’s rank. "Sure, shower them with money,” he used to say, “but do not give them any ranks: they are mercenaries.” The abandonment of Moscow lay heavily on his heart. Rarely did a day pass without him mentioning to me about this circumstance, adding every time, “I did not cast my vote for the surrender of Moscow and urged the council of war to advance against the enemy." “Only once,” he told me, “did I advise to retreat during the Patriotic War, and that was at Krasnaya Pakhra.”
Our neighbors usually visited us at lunchtime. As expected all conversations were solely about the war of 1812 that had just ended and the memories of it were still fresh and vivid! Everyone listened attentively when Konovnitsyn told various war stories since he knew all details and secrets. In the evenings, we held dances and our hero [Konovnitsyn], who just weeks earlier was rushing like a lightning in front of the regiments and whom the future generations would consider among the liberators of Russia, played on a violin, albeit very poorly. Like many generals who the Providence immortalized during the war of 1812, Konovnitsyn was dismissed from military service by Emperor Paul and he used his banishment to ponder and enrich himself with knowledge because he, like all the nobles of his time, enlisted in the service very early in his life and before completing his education. In Russia, a statesman must educate himself during his adult years, because we lack appropriate educational facilities where we could be prepared for senior military or civilian positions and spend the best years for education in military service Konovnitsyn also prepared notes for the education of his children, whom he loved passionately and whose subsequent fate, especially his eldest son [Peter] and daughter [Elizabeth] whom he idolized, turned so terrible: his son was cashiered as a common soldier while the daughter followed her husband into the Siberian exile.
While commanding the 3rd Infantry Division, he issued an injunction on soldier instruction, which, among other things, stated, “The soldier must be certain that the number of bullets he carries is equal to the number of deaths he inflicts on the enemy.” During the battle at the village of Kakuvyachino, near Vitebsk, he was informed that the enemy had pushed one [of the Russian] wings back and asked for further orders. He simply responded, "Do not let the enemy in.”
Konovnitsyn’s name will forever remain in our history because of his participation in the Patriotic War. At Vitebsk, Smolensk and Borodino he commanded the most dangerous spots on the battlefield while his rearguard actions from Smolensk to Borodino, which daily featured more than 30,000 people and fifty guns, would have been considered among general battles in former times when armies were not as numerous as now. After the abandonment of Moscow, when our army was in great disarray, Prince Kutuzov appointed him as duty general because he was the most capable of restoring order among the troops. Not content with this position, he continued to be present in skirmisher lines or ahead of columns in all battles: one can say that he commanded troops in the battles at Tarutino and Maloyaroslavets; at Vyazma and Krasnyi, he inspired our soldiers through his personal example, rushing back and forth with incredible speed and acting on behalf of the commander in chief. Upon receiving the news that the enemy troops were longer present on Russian soil, he asked for permission to see his family, but one may ask when did he requested this vacation? When the Emperor himself came to Vilna to thank and reward the generals and personally greeted Konovnitsyn, thanking him for his service. At that very moment, when one should try to gain the monarch’s attention to procure awards, Konovnitsyn requested just one grace – a furlough of several days to embrace his wife and children. I saw him both in the heat of battle and in the midst of his family: a sincere respect for his memory is forever engraved in my heart, and his portrait will never leave my study.
A week later we traveled from Kiarovo to the main headquarters of the army, which was had orders (later countermanded) to concentrate between Posen to Schneidemühl. As we traveled to Vilna, we observed everywhere the bloody footprints of the war. Starting from the Dvina River, all villages were burnt to the ground; residents deprived of shelter and food, nesting in holes dug by them in the ground; and only Jews showed some attempts at enterprise. These later should be given a fair due for services they provided to Russia and remaining devoted to us while the Poles still entertained hopes that the enemy would launch a new offensive in the spring and return to our borders. Vilna presented a horrible sight: infectious diseases rampaged there for two months; there was not a house where there were not sick and dying, while others stood empty, abandoned by their owners out of fear of contagion. We saw prisoners in multitudes at every step; the disasters that befell on them during their retreat from Moscow were so great that they considered themselves lucky to be in captivity; even the air was so cold and heavy that it was difficult to breath.
From Vilna we traveled to Plock and crossed the Niemen the following day. In the first Prussian settlement, Kalinovo, I found educated people, a piano, books and newspapers. It was a joyful sight after the disastrous scenes we observed in Byelorussia and Lithuania. Soon we entered once more the Duchy of Warsaw; it was not as devastated as the Russian provinces that served as a theater of war; Polish peasant houses and buildings were unscathed while [in our provinces] everything is burnt to the ground.
Upon arrival at Plock, I visited Prince Kutuzov. He received me very kindly and was in more joyful spirit than at Tarutino, which is natural considering the successful end to the Patriotic War. “You will again stay with me,” he told me among other things. At the headquarters, I found great changes compared to what was Tarutino where everyone easily entered the headquarters, oftentimes wearing frock coats made of the soldier's cloth. At Płock, however, the Emperor and his glistering retinue were staring and I saw many new faces, dandy horses and carriages; [back in 1812] when we were near Moscow, we lived like Spartans. At the headquarters, everyone was in engaged in activities, writing and making plans for future military operations, but special attention was paid to formation of reserve troops and the alliances with Prussia and Austria.
Quartermaster General Toll welcomed me with open arms. At the time he played the leading role [at the headquarters:] both the Emperor and the Field Marshal trusted him greatly, his advice was solicited in all affairs and nothing was decided without his council. As the French were expelled from Russia, Grand Duke Constantine Pavlovich told him, “You prescribed them a nice route from Tarutino through Vyazma and Krasnyi to the Niemen!” Konovnitsyn was appointed as the head of the Grenadier Corps; his former post of Chief of Staff of the Army was given to Prince Volkonskii, who instructed me to maintain a military journal and foreign correspondence, and thus I became exposed to the clandestine side of the 1813 Campaign. We possessed numerous captured enemy documents that had not been categorized yet; many of them were signed by Napoleon himself, and quite a few of them were later lost, for the future historian’s great chagrin. These documents showed clearly that the French had made careful preparations for the invasion of Russia and were quite afraid of us. I was also secretly shown the letter sent by the famous Prussian Minister Baron Stein to General York urging him to remain steadfast in his feelings towards Russia.
In early February, we marched from Plock to Kalisz. Our march was like a spring stroll; the green was just appearing everywhere, trees were blossoming and the beneficial sun is never so appealing as in the Northern countries in the first days of spring. We covered some twenty or more verstas each day. The Emperor was always on horseback, dressed as a dandy; his beautiful face never stopped exuding happiness. We advanced for more than three hundred verstas from our borders, but no one greeted us as the liberators. Only Jews, dressed in clownish clothes, carried out their sacred objects and colorful banners depicting the Tsar's monogram ahead of their settlements, beating drums, playing trumpet and timpani. The Poles appeared occasionally as well. As usual they did not know themselves what they wanted, some said that they were tired of the French yoke, others looked angrily at us, which was quite natural due to their deep-rooted resentment towards us as well as because our Army’s each march forward deferred the hour when Poland would restored. However, the Poles could not complain about us: our army maintained the strictest order.
Neither hostile attitudes of the inhabitants of the Duchy of Warsaw, nor indecisiveness of Prussian and Austrian cabinets, which were so close to the theater of war, or the Vistula River, that was fenced with strongly guarded fortresses, stopped our advance. The enemy fled in different directions: some fled to Dresden, others to Magdeburg, still others locked themselves inside fortresses on the Vistula
Oder and the Elbe, while the Poles withdrew into Krakow, where the survivors of “people’s representatives” who proclaimed the restoration of Poland in 1812, had escaped from Warsaw.
No matter how plausible it seemed that other powers would join us against Napoleon, we had, first of all, to place our hopes in the strength and future successes of our own troops, who needed to rest. At first [our leaders] considered to rest them near Züllichau but then decision was made to stop at Kalisz, where the headquarters arrived on 12 [24] February and the army occupied the surrounding area. Detachments were sent forward with orders to overtake the enemy, destroy them and incited the people of Germany to take arms. Count Wittgenstein, meanwhile, proceeded to Berlin, and various corps were deployed to observe fortresses still occupied by the enemy in our rear.
Events unfolded so rapidly that the recent exploits of the Russians on the Dnieper and the Dvina, on the Kolocha and the Nara, the burning of Moscow and Smolensk already seemed to belong to history and bearing no connection with the present events. As a result of our victories, our relationship towards other powers had changed. Russia was now as alone and abandoned by all as she was six months before but now she was not simply in anticipation of a bloody conflict for everything that was sacred for the nations but rather acted as the victorious power ready to fight for the independence of Europe. Her successes guaranteed her long-time safety from military offensives against her and therefore the struggle undertaken by our Emperor had to take a different form. Our cabinet had to be as skilful at the negotiating table as our army had shown itself on the fields of honor and earn the same aplomb in diplomatic affairs which our army had acquired in military affairs, and compel Europeans, who pay attention to tangible benefits, to feel the price of political liberty that Russia intended to grant them.
Shortly after our arrival at Kalisz, Prussian officers began to appear at our headquarters. While their appearance did give us some hope for Prussia’s cooperation, but it was far from being certain, particularly because General York, who was first to come to our side with his corps, declared, in response to our proposals for joint pursuit of the enemy, that he would not advance with us beyond Schlochau and would certainly not cross to the left bank of the Vistula without the royal command; at the same time, the Prussian commandant of the fortress Graudenz rejected Barclay’s requests for artillery that was needed for the siege of Thorn. Prussian General Scharnhorst, famous for his military writings and one of the leaders of the secret societies in Germany, arrived at our headquarters. He was instructed by the king [Frederick William III] to conclude an alliance as well as to gather reliable information on our forces that were exaggerated for him both on paper and in verbal communications. Negotiations touched upon the issue of who should, in the case of joint operations of the Russian and Prussian troops, command the armies; our side suggested that whoever was senior in rank should take command but Scharnhorst argued that it would be more appropriate for Russians to take the lead because his countrymen were allies or auxiliary troops, and the Russians, as the first party to the war, should take precedence.
After Scharnhorst arrived British Ambassador Earl Cathcart, Swedish Minister Count [Carl] Löwenhielm and Austrian Charge d'Affaires [Ludwig] Lebzeltern. Thus Russia was no longer acting alone nor was she confined to her own troops in this new war. Nevertheless, we still had to incite our new allies to decidedly declare war and especially to dissipate the fear which gripped them in front of Napoleon. During our negotiations with them, we particularly emphasized the news of the continued victories of our advance troops who were already approaching the Elbe.
Meanwhile, we were also preoccupied with the formation of the interim government in the Duchy of Warsaw. Our goal was to make arrangements in this region and secure the rear and supplies of our armies. With this in mind, we established a supreme council of five members, appointed by the Emperor, and a committee composed of members from each of the Duchy’s department or county. Our inexperience in such matters was rather amusing. The task of establishing the government of the Duchy of Warsaw was entrusted to Bezrodny, who had served his entire career at the supply and commissariat services. He did not have even the slightest idea on politics and did not know any foreign language. I met him in front of Prince Kutuzov’s cabinet where I was called by his lordship. Bezrodny stopped me, urgently asking me to inform the Field Marshal about his most difficult circumstances; "I have never written constitutions in my entire life,” he told me.
We noticed that in their bulletins and various pamphlets the French sought to assure the Germans (and they partially succeeded in this) that we had exaggerated our successes and that the French losses in Russia were negligible. Therefore, prince Kutuzov ordered me to publish news on our military operations in Russian, French and German languages and describe circumstances as they were. Never before have I had such a wide field to extol successes of my Fatherland. But my inspiration also took me too far and the Field Marshal [Kutuzov] once told me, "You have lost your touch and no longer write in prose but rather produce [laudatory] odes." But it was not difficult to find an excuse for this since that very same day we received the news on our capture of Dresden and our victory over the Persians [in southern Caucasia.]
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